


The End of All Things

by harlequin (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Camelot Remix, Crossover, M/M, Self-Sacrifice, impending doom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-03-30 19:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19034536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/harlequin
Summary: Arthur has brought the Ring to Mount Doom, but declares that he cannot destroy it. What can Merlin do to help fulfil the Quest they've shared?





	The End of All Things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Amphigoury](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amphigoury/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dawn Has Come](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/486763) by Amphigoury. 



> Dear Remixee, You have so much beautiful and evocative art to choose from, that it took me a long while to decide what to do. I hope very much that you enjoy the results - as while the inspiration was very specific, I felt in tune with a vibe from some of your other work as well. Thank you for sharing your creativity with us!

The light sprang up again, and there on the brink of the chasm stood Arthur, black against the molten glare, tense, tall, and as still as if he had been turned to stone. 

“Arthur!” cried Merlin, stepping towards him.

Then Arthur stirred and spoke with a clear voice, indeed with a voice clearer and more powerful than Merlin had ever heard him use before, and it rose above the throb and turmoil of Mount Doom, ringing in the roof and walls.

“I have come here at last,” Arthur said. “But I do not choose to do what I came to do. I will not do this deed. The Ring is mine!” And he held aloft the Ring, and it shone now as if verily it was wrought of living fire.

Merlin tried to cry out a protest, though his voice was gasping and strangled, as he struggled with a soul-deep agony. For he, too, had been a Ring-bearer if only for a short while, and even now he felt the tug and seduction of its power. 

And far away, as Arthur claimed the Ring for his own in the very heart of the Dark Lord’s realm, the Power in Barad-dûr was shaken, and the Tower trembled from its foundations to its proud and bitter crown. The Dark Lord was suddenly aware of Arthur, and his Eye piercing all shadows looked across the plain to the door into the Mountain that he had made; and the magnitude of his own folly was revealed to him in a blinding flash, and all the devices of his enemies were at last laid bare. Then his wrath blazed in consuming flame, but his fear rose like a vast black smoke to choke him. For he knew his deadly peril and the thread upon which his doom now hung.

The whole mind and purpose of the Power now bent with overwhelming force upon the Mountain. The fires below Arthur awoke in anger, the red light blazed, and all the cavern was filled with a great glare and heat. 

Merlin staggered closer to Arthur, almost overcome by the fumes, his heart wrenched with despair. “Arthur,” he pleaded as he drew close, “the thing must be destroyed. You know this. You have always known this. There is no other way.”

Arthur turned to stare at Merlin, with his blue eyes fierce as if he were in combat. “I am your king, Merlin. I choose to take this power. You cannot deny me.”

“I know what you are feeling,” he said hoarsely, only an arm’s length away from Arthur now. “Believe me, I know, for I bore it, too. You fear you cannot give it up. It is too beautiful, too terrible. And if it is destroyed, you fear a never-ending grief. It will torment you, whether you choose one way or the other. _I know, Arthur._ But,” Merlin concluded, his soul wrung with pity for his dearest friend, “there is yet one other path we can take together – and there we will find peace.”

In the midst of the maelstrom, Arthur contemplated him thoughtfully. His hand had lowered, and he held the Ring loosely clasped in his palm, and all his attention was on Merlin. 

With that gaze upon him, Merlin couldn’t voice the words to describe what they must do – but, well, Arthur would realise it soon enough, if he hadn’t already. “Come now, love,” Merlin murmured, stepping closer and taking Arthur into his arms. “Come with me now.”

And Merlin shifted his weight towards the chasm, Arthur swaying with him trustingly; for of course the only way they could save the world, and Camelot, their friends, and their own souls, was for them both to leap into the molten fire and destroy Arthur, Merlin, the Ring, and all. 

“Come now,” Merlin said again, his tears scorched away even as they tumbled from his eyes. He could feel the Power approaching, like a great jagged rent ripping through the ground towards them, but surely they had one more moment in which he could at last make all clear between them.

Merlin pushed in close to press a desperate kiss to Arthur’s lips, and he lifted a trembling hand to run over that golden hair, to offer what would have been a soothing caress. At first, Arthur remained still as if stunned; but then he relented, softened, and he returned the kiss, and they mouthed at each other as hungrily as if Arthur had been yearning for this as long as Merlin had. Arthur’s free arm twisted around Merlin’s waist, and hauled him closer still. Merlin’s heart cracked in two.  

But he had his reward, for when Arthur pulled away his face was calm and sure. He held on snug to Merlin, and nodded decisively. “I’m ready, if you are with me.” 

“Always,” Merlin vowed.

“Only in spirit, though,” Arthur continued, his strong embrace beginning to loosen. “You must let me do this alone, Merlin.”

“Oh no, you don’t. You’re not getting all noble on me now, Arthur. I’m staying with you, and that’s that.” 

Merlin gazed upon his friend, his love, determined that he would take the sight of this beauty with him into death. They were so close to the fiery lava flow that all it would take would be to tip them both over and –

Arthur had been returning Merlin’s gaze with great certainty – but now suddenly he looked startled, and his attention turned inwards –

The pieces of Merlin’s heart shattered. He would have to be strong enough for both of them. He tightened his hold and braced his thighs –

“Wait!” Arthur cried. He stared at Merlin wildly. And something about him had changed, as if a burden had been lightened. “No, help me.”

And Arthur’s hand unfolded between them. The Ring sat there on his palm, beautiful and deadly. They both knew what must be done; and they could do it together, for love is stronger than magic, stronger than curses, stronger than power. Love is stronger than anything in all the world. 

Arthur shook as he forced his hand out over the flame. His fingers curled in protectively, like a claw. “Help me,” he said again.

Merlin fumbled as he resisted the Ring, the Power, his own unworthy instincts. He matched Arthur’s hand palm to palm, and for a moment they held the Ring safe between them. Was it even possible that they could share –

The Power drew near, as if even now it reached the doorway into the Mountain and in the next moment it would be upon them, reclaiming its own –

Arthur forced his fingers to uncurl – Merlin swept the Ring away – and together, fortified by love and faith and strength, they let it fall.

They both watched carefully. For a moment the Ring sat pristine and whole on the surface of the molten rock, but then at last it sank and dissolved away. 

It was gone.

Arthur gave a broken cry, and shrank into himself, then fell upon his knees at the brink. Left to himself, he would collapse there and be drowned in fire, and Merlin knew exactly how he felt. But his sense of hope had been renewed even in this direst of places, and it was no longer so easy to let go of life.

There was a roar and a great confusion of noise. Fires leaped up and licked the roof. The throbbing grew to a great tumult, and the Mountain shook. Merlin forced Arthur to his feet, and half-carrying him he staggered out to the door. And there upon the dark threshold, high above the plains of Mordor, such wonder and terror came on him that he stood still forgetting all else, and gazed as one turned to stone. 

Towers fell and mountains slid; walls crumbled and melted, crashing down; vast spires of smoke and spouting steams went billowing up, up, until they toppled like an overwhelming wave, and its wild crest curled and came foaming down upon the land. And then at last over the miles between there came a rumble, rising to a deafening crash and roar; the earth shook, the plain heaved and cracked, and the Mountain reeled. Fire belched from its riven summit. The skies burst into thunder seared with lightning. Down like lashing whips fell a torrent of black rain. And into the heart of the storm, with a cry that pierced all other sounds, tearing the clouds asunder, the Nazgûl came, shooting like flaming bolts, as caught in the fiery ruin of hill and sky they crackled, withered, and went out.

#

“Well, this is the end, Merlin,” said a voice by his side. And there was Arthur, pale and worn, and yet himself again; and in his eyes there was peace now, neither strain of will, nor madness, nor any fear. His burden was taken away. There was the beloved king of the pure days they’d spent together in Camelot.

“Arthur!” cried Merlin, and fell upon his knees. In all that ruin of the world for the moment he felt only joy, great joy. The burden was gone. His friend had been saved; he was himself again, he was free.

Arthur, weary and sore from all their travelling, eased down to sit on the ground, and he dragged Merlin close beside him. They sat there quietly in each other’s arms for a treasured moment, knowing they would soon be overcome. There was quite literally no longer a path to take, and soon the very Mountain would collapse beneath them. Still, against all expectations, they had found peace.

“But for you, Merlin,” said Arthur, “I could not have destroyed the Ring. The Quest would have been in vain, even at the bitter end. But now the Quest is achieved, and all is over.”

Merlin shared a smile with him, proud and satisfied and full of love. Arthur leaned in and kissed him; a far gentler affair than their first. 

“I am glad you are here with me, Merlin,” Arthur said with great quiet affection. “Here at the end of all things.”

#


End file.
